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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234845">go ahead/get down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbrennung/pseuds/Verbrennung'>Verbrennung</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Biting, Delinquents, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, M/M, Male omegas have vaginas, Mild breeding kink, Play Fighting, Teeth Stuff, its ABO what do you expect honestly, sort of? i think it's more domination play between two willing parties but tagging for safety</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:47:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbrennung/pseuds/Verbrennung</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>For some reason, the thought of him won’t leave Terushima alone. He’s not one to fixate on a single person like this, but he wants so badly to see Kyoutani again. It’s the same reckless kind of impulse as wanting to press a finger to a knife’s edge to test the sharpness of it, or test how close you can lower your hand to an open flame before it gets too hot. He’s almost certain of the end result, but he needs to know for sure.</i>
</p><p>Terushima encounters Kyoutani Kentarou at an inter-city brawl. He's vicious and mean, teeth perpetually bared and ready to bite.</p><p>Terushima wants to be bitten.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kyoutani Kentarou/Terushima Yuuji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>"In Their Prime" Sportsani Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>go ahead/get down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lhtkd/gifts">lhtkd</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>written for a server exchange! my recipient gave me lots of pairings/kinks/want-to-reads to choose from! i went with:</p><p>terukyou, abo, [character has a pussy for whatever reason], dubcon/in heat, meet-cute(? if this counts lmao)</p><p>i added some delinquent au just because terukyou are the Rowdy Boys of Haikyuu™ and also because I wanted to<br/>(and then i added some teeth stuff, and then after i found out my recipient was also into it i added a bit more)<br/>and then what was supposed to be 2-3k became <i>this</i></p><p><b>IN CASE YOU DIDN'T READ THE TAGS:</b> this fic ascribes to the abo canon that involves male omegas having vaginas!! just in case u really hate pussies or something. also to clarify, this is not a trans!au. kyoutani isn't dysphoric or ashamed he just wants to be seen as a Tough Guy™ and not deal w sexist assholes</p><p>written almost exclusively to missy elliott's greatest hits, god bless</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Terushima first encounters Kyoutani at a brawl. It is, of course, an organised meeting of opposing sides, for the sake of honour—something about some guy getting jumped and, if Bobata is to be believed, getting possibly stabbed in the leg.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not really one for the politics of the thing, in all honesty he just wants to fuck around and party with his friends. Which is fine, for the most part, until the idiots up in Ishinomaki get bored enough to come and pick petty squabbles, which apparently calls for all the delinquents in the Sendai area to band together in solidarity to fight off outsider evil.</p><p> </p><p>So Terushima’s here for the fight because he was called to by some nebulous local peace agreement and the logo painstakingly painted on the back of his leather jacket. Ukai stands in front of them all, looking every inch the Alpha protagonist of this story, shoulders broad and blonde hair lit orange by the sunset. He’s talking to some idiot with a headband on, who Terushima guesses is the leader of the other party. Probably a last half-hearted attempt to broker peace, if only for appearances. The whole process is tedious—Terushima’s not a huge fan of fighting, all told, and the waiting around makes it all <em>worse.</em></p><p> </p><p>He rotates the metal baseball bat resting against his shoulder, clicking the barbell in his tongue against his teeth as he glances around at the mob he’s found himself standing in. There’s twenty-five or so guys gathered in the name of Sendai city’s honour, most of whom he only vaguely recognises. Of those who could make it today there’s a scant handful that he’d call a friend, despite the fact that they’re all sworn brothers. It’s all very dramatic. Guts and honour, et cetera.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes catch on someone he doesn’t recognise, someone towards the outside of the cluster. Not so much physically isolated from the pack of them, but even from here Terushima can see there’s a look on his face like he’d rather be anywhere else, only emphasised by the way he’s standing. He makes quite the picture: mean eyes and bleached hair not unlike Terushima’s own, but buzzed short. When the stranger turns his head, he can see there are lines shaved even shorter at the sides, showing off the natural-black of his roots. He looks mean and angry, and Terushima is curious.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” he murmurs, nudging Futakuchi as the ritual continues between leaders in no man’s land, “who’s that guy?”</p><p> </p><p>Futakuchi knows almost everything and everyone by virtue of being a nosy as fuck gossip, a true ‘knowledge is power’ type. He’s a Beta, and he’s like Terushima in that he’d probably rather not fight. He’s likely only here to get a first-hand account of what happens; the tall Alpha perpetually looming at his shoulder will watch out for him if his mouth gets him into trouble. He lifts his head and follows Terushima’s gaze, narrowing his eyes for a second as he tries to figure out who he means.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, that’s Kyoutani,” he supplies. “He’s from the west side of the city, near Aoba Johsai. He disappeared after middle school, no one knows where he went. Some people thought he got some Omega pregnant, but since he came back people agreed he probably just got into some real trouble for something. They call him Mad Dog.”</p><p> </p><p>Terushima would laugh out loud at the ridiculous nickname if he didn’t kind of get it just by looking at him. He looks like a fighter, a brawler, and Terushima can almost imagine him ripping someone’s throat out with his teeth.</p><p> </p><p>…he’s not sure why the thought makes his toes curl in his boots.</p><p> </p><p>“He looks like a fucking killer,” he says to Futakuchi, amused and intrigued. He gets a sound of agreement in return but then a battle cry erupts from the front lines, lifting into the air. The chaos has begun, and everyone charges in.</p><p> </p><p>Even if Terushima is more of a lover than a fighter, he can admit it’s nice to have an excuse to let it all out and bleed into the dirt now and again. Primal Alpha urges or something, he thinks.</p><p> </p><p>The bat in his hand allows him to keep a better distance from swinging fists, and unlike the broken pipes and other improvised weapons people favour, it isn’t a sure-fire jail term.</p><p> </p><p>Still, it’s been a while, and he’d forgotten what kind of sound a metal baseball bat cracking against a skull makes. He remembers now, as the impact travels from fingers clenched around the handle of the bat all the way up his arms, jarring his shoulders. He hears a choked gasp and the guy falls. Terushima probably hasn’t even dealt permanent damage—he didn’t swing that hard—but the guy is out for the count and not hitting back for now, so that’s a win.</p><p> </p><p>Taketora’s engaged in a vicious grapple by him but Terushima doesn’t help him out, instead taking a moment to catch his breath. Taketora notices him and smiles to show bloodied teeth before he shoves the guy away just far enough away that he can drive his shoe into his stomach. Last time they’d fought on a scale like this, Taketora had been piled on by three guys and Terushima had to wade in, but today it looks like he has a decent handle on things. Terushima gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up just to be an asshole.</p><p> </p><p>“This time,” Taketora calls, pausing to spit out a glob of blood onto the dusty ground, “if you see any of my teeth on the floor, I don’t want them back.”</p><p> </p><p>Terushima laughs. He’d done that to be an asshole, too. All told, he wasn’t even sure it <em>had</em> been Tora’s tooth.</p><p> </p><p>Taketora stumbles away to find some other sucker to fight, and in the next second Terushima’s breath hitches in his throat with random, unknown alarm. It’s behind him, so it can only be pure instinct that has him sensing the kendo stick coming straight for him. His brain lets his body act without thinking to slow it down: he whirls around on his heel and immediately drops to the ground, bat clattering somewhere nearby as it slips from his hand. He hears the <em>whoosh</em> of the stick as it cuts through the air above him, the displacement of air (or maybe the stick itself? had it really been that close?) swiping at the dead ends of his bleached hair.</p><p> </p><p><em>Holy shit</em>, Terushima thinks, suddenly infinitely grateful for the times he’s dropped into a squat around various places in Sendai to smoke cigarettes and drink beer for how natural it felt to sink down to dodge. But of course, he can’t stop his sudden downward momentum there and ends up on his ass.</p><p> </p><p>It takes the guy with the stick about that amount of time to right himself and find Terushima again with his eyes, and then he’s bringing the stick back up over his head and as Tersuhima realises <em>oh shit I’m about to get whacked good here—</em></p><p> </p><p>—a fist comes out of nowhere, and Terushima watches it collide with the guy’s jaw in slow-motion.</p><p> </p><p>He sees the sick shock of the impact travel across the poor bastard’s face. It’d be satisfying if it wasn’t kind of disgusting. A tooth actually shoots out of the guy’s mouth, <em>flying through the air</em> and Terushima thinks, or maybe says out loud, <em>wow, that’s one hard fucking punch.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>He looks up at his saviour, hoping to fuck it isn’t Taketora because he’d never hear the end of it. It isn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani Kentarou stands above him. There’s a shadow over his eyes but his bared teeth are white and gleaming. It knocks Terushima breathless for a second, a shiver running up his spine at the sheer violence in the expression. He looks more animal than human in this moment, with shoulders tense and a splatter of blood on his collar.</p><p> </p><p>But Terushima’s an Alpha, too. Never to be outdone, his chest pushes out and he grins up at the team member he’s never actually spoken to yet. Until now.</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh, nice right hook,” he croons, cocky grin in place until those eyes shift to look down at him.</p><p> </p><p>Desire wells up inside of him like a fire. Like a beast waking from slumber.</p><p> </p><p>Man oh man, does he ever wanna press him down into the dust, trap his struggling limbs until he submits with Terushima’s teeth against his neck. He’s never wanted anyone, no less another Alpha, like that in his life.</p><p> </p><p>“The name’s Terushima,” he offers in a chipper tone, partly to be a dick and partly because he can’t stand the idea of Kyoutani Kentarou not knowing who he is for a second longer.</p><p> </p><p>A shout from somewhere close breaks the silence that follows. Kyoutani’s head cocks towards the sound instantly, but his eyes take a second longer to drag away from Terushima’s face to check for danger.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not something either of them needs to worry about—someone dive-tackling a guy a few metres away.</p><p> </p><p>“Kyoutani,” says the man himself, returning the self-introduction as though there’s nothing he’d rather do less. Terushima knows his name already but doesn’t say so. He wishes he’d known of him much sooner.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani kicks Terushima’s bat back towards him with a metallic rattle across the ground. “Good dodge,” he offers after a strange couple of seconds of silence, and then dashes off to drive that leaden fist into some other unlucky fucker’s face.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima licks his lips, a quick motion, before he heaves himself back up, grabbing the baseball bat as he goes. He surveys the lot—it’s much darker now thanks to the rapidly-setting sun, but to his relief by now there are more people hunched over or prone on the ground than upright. These fights really never last that long; this one is already winding down.</p><p> </p><p>As if on cue, some little junior high schooler bursts through one of the gates to the abandoned lot, sounding out a loud metallic ping as it swings back to hit the chain-link fence. “Cops!” he bleats, face red, equal parts excited and terrified, “Cops!”</p><p> </p><p>The sound of the sirens pierce through the air. Someone spits out an “oh shit--!” and the scramble begins. It’s pandemonium. The feud is forgotten, everyone more concerned with fleeing from the cops than emerging the victor. They disperse, kicking up dust as they sprint and stagger across the lot, finding the nearest exit.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima’s a good runner and has avoided sustaining any significant injuries during the fight, both of which are good news for his already less-than-stellar police record. He finds himself splitting from the crowd and running between old warehouses, the shouts and piercing whistle of the police officers fading into the distance.</p><p> </p><p>He spots an alley coming up and skids into it—a decent place to hide, which is just as well because he’s feeling a little winded. A metallic sound rings out as he finally drops his trusty bat to the ground, and then he slumps against the corrugated iron siding to his left to get his breath back.</p><p> </p><p>A few moments pass. Some of the whistling seems to be getting closer, but Terushima knows from experience he’s better off hunkering down for now than taking a chance on all the open space he’d have to cross to get back to the city proper. He hears the sound of running footsteps, shouting coming closer, and he can’t resist the desire to peek.</p><p> </p><p>All he registers at first is the sight of a familiar black leather jacket. It’s a sworn brother, so he’s already preparing himself to move, but when he realises just who it is coming towards him his determination only grows. As the figure reaches the mouth of the shadowed alley, Terushima reaches out two hands, grabs and <em>hauls</em> him in.</p><p> </p><p>There’s immediate protest but Terushima was ready for it; he slaps his hand over Kyoutani’s mouth and forces him deeper into shadow until he hits the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Shh,” he whispers. Heat surging through his veins and he knows it not <em>just</em> the adrenaline of the cop chase or his semi-daring rescue. He uses more of his weight to press Kyoutani back, taking another step forward to trap him there.</p><p> </p><p>Above his long fingers, Kyoutani’s eyes go from startled to shocked to furious. Even in the dark, Terushima swears he can see his pupils expand. He’s fighting the hold and Terushima responds with an instinct that comes from some unknown place deep in his chest, using the hold on Kyoutani’s face to shove his head firmly against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re coming.” The shrill police whistle is loud, the break between long bleats supplemented with the follow-up shouts from a second cop. Sure enough their heavy footfalls become audible, and Terushima presses closer to Kyoutani to make sure he too is hidden by the shadows a second before the officers jog past the opening of the alley.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima still doesn’t move. Kyoutani’s chest heaves with each breath, brushing up against Terushima’s every time it expands. He has no choice but to breathe through his nose; every one of his exhales warms the back of Terushima’s hand, a contrast to his damp palm against Kyoutani’s lips. In the quiet, their leather jackets creak with the slightest movement. Terushima is caught in that nasty gaze, unable to look away. He lets out his own breath, licking his lips as he watches him. As if under a spell he sways a little closer, desperate to know what Kyoutani thinks about this position they’ve found themselves in.</p><p> </p><p>Unable to resist, he scents the air to try and get some idea, but where he’d expected some easily-identifiable scent—whether it be anger, disgust, <em>interest</em>—there’s... absolutely nothing. Huh.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani shoves him <em>hard</em>, sending Terushima reeling back and scrabbling to keep himself upright.</p><p> </p><p>“The fuck are you doing?” Kyoutani snarls, keeping himself against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima rights his jacket with a huff, as if he wasn’t almost pushed over like a little kid in the playground. “Saving your ass from the cops. You’re welcome, by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>The look he gets in response is something else. For someone who doesn’t seem too keen on talking, Kyoutani is pretty fucking expressive. Right now his face is saying <em>I’m not talking about that and you know it.</em> Terushima considers his next move, knocking his barbell against his teeth in his customary tic.</p><p> </p><p>Ah, what the Hell. He always has to shoot his shot, even if it’s doomed to fail. “Adrenaline, y’know?” he says rhetorically, sliding a hand through his hair and looking at the other across the way. Kyoutani’s wary and ready to fight his way out, hands against the metal siding of the warehouse, ready to push off the second he needs to. “Thought for a second we could work it off together.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani flashes his teeth. Fuck, Terushima wants him.</p><p> </p><p>“Or not. Sure, two Alphas aren’t a traditional pairing but it’s fun for fucking around at least.” His mouth’s getting away from him, even as he remembers his discovery a second earlier and cocks his head. “Or maybe you’re a Beta, which is fine.” Using scent-blockers as an Alpha isn’t unheard of, but it’s rare. Far more common amongst Betas, hence the guess.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s none of your fucking business,” Kyoutani hisses, shoving him out of his way before storming out of the alley.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima’s disappointed, but at least he didn’t get socked in the jaw.</p><p> </p><p>Much later, when he finally makes it home, he can’t deny himself any longer. It doesn’t take long to get off to how Kyoutani looked, pinned and silenced under his hands in the alley.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t tell anyone else about what happened between him and Kyoutani, not even when he gets drunk with his friends and the conversation inevitably moves to recent exploits. It’s not like he got anywhere with him, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>But for some reason, the thought of him won’t leave Terushima alone. He’s not one to fixate on a single person like this—if he's ever pursued anyone for longer than a single night it's been because of his own stubborn ego rather than some… deep-seated desire.</p><p> </p><p>He just wants to see Kyoutani again. It’s the same reckless kind of impulse as wanting to press a finger to a knife’s edge to test the sharpness of it, or test how close you can lower your hand to an open flame before it gets <em>too </em>hot. He’s almost certain of the end result, but he needs to know for sure.</p><p> </p><p>Turns out he doesn’t have to wait long to see. He’s on his way back from his shitty job a couple of days later when he sees him, totally by chance. His work is close enough that he can walk his commute to save extra cash—the route includes a scenic little stretch of road than runs between a row of old neighbourhood stores and a grassy back that runs down to the banks of the Hirose river, so if the weather’s fine it’s actually pretty nice.</p><p> </p><p>He’s watching the late afternoon sun reflected on the surface the water when, as if pulled by an unseen force, his gaze finds a figure crouched at the muddy river bank below.</p><p> </p><p>At this point, Terushima would know him <em>anywhere</em>. Before he’s even had a coherent thought he’s veering off course, hopping down the steep grassy bank to press at that knife’s edge.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani notices his approach once he’s about halfway down—the way he tenses is obvious even across the remaining distance—but he doesn’t turn his head until Terushima skids onto the dirt with a flourish, sending a few pebbles flying.</p><p> </p><p>He’s got a mask on, so all Terushima can see are those mean-looking eyes sliding his way. Something about him today emits a stark warning to stay away, but Terushima just puts on a smile in response to the threat and takes a step closer.</p><p> </p><p>If it’s even possible, Kyoutani tenses up even more. His shoulders hike up even as he tugs his mask down to bare his teeth in a snarl. That’s… a strong reaction, even considering their last meeting. But Terushima’s bored, interested in Kyoutani and now <em>curious</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Most of all, the Alpha in him refuses to back down in the face of such a blatant challenge.</p><p> </p><p>“Oi, what’s got you in such a… state…” he starts off strong with the taunting, but it trails off when he notices two very important things:</p><p> </p><p>1) Kyoutani is flushed. Even with half of his face obscured he hadn’t looked good, but with the mask pulled down he looks worse, red and clammy.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima would think he was sick, if it wasn’t for the next thing:</p><p> </p><p>2) He smells <em>amazing.</em></p><p> </p><p>Wait. Terushima can smell him—no more blockers? It’s got to be him, there’s no one else around. This is too much to compute; he can smell Kyoutani and he smells good. Not just the neutral kind of ‘good’ either.</p><p> </p><p>He smells <em>amazing. </em>Like the prelude to a really good fuck. Like he’s in <em>Heat.</em></p><p> </p><p>“…Holy shit,” Terushima says, because his mouth is always quicker than his brain. Then he lets out a small disbelieving laugh right in Kyoutani’s face, because he’s really good at pissing people off, even if he doesn’t mean to.</p><p> </p><p>As always, it works like a charm. Kyoutani coils tighter, ready to spring. He’s on high alert, apparently in heat, and clearly ready to <em>fight. </em>Terushima feels a shudder rip through him, from the tip of his toes to his scalp. It’s pure instinct to set his shoulders back and push his chest out a little as he looks down at Kyoutani, Alpha-posturing. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re an <em>Omega</em>.” Fuck. <em>Fuck. </em>Terushima had never even <em>imagined—</em>arousal floods him, surging through his veins. Not just Omega. <em>Omega-in-Heat.</em></p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani freezes, a million mixed messages radiating outward and making Terushima’s head a little cloudy. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit,” he murmurs, licking his lips. A quick glance around reminds him where they are, on the muddy banks of the Hirose river. “Why haven’t you gone <em>home</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>When Kyoutani staunchly avoids his gaze, he doesn’t look <em>down. </em>That would be read as submissive, after all. Instead his eyes swing out to the river, and Terushima is left to observe that severe frown in profile. “It’s not supposed to be <em>happening</em>,” he admits in a snap. There’s a moment of hesitation, and then reluctantly: “I was going to deal with it, but the blockers stopped working, and I don’t have any—”</p><p> </p><p>He visibly forces himself to stop, biting down on his words as his discomfort ratchets up a couple notches.</p><p> </p><p>“Any…” Terushima repeats, coaxing him to keep going.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani cuts a savage glare in his direction and combined with the delectable scent of him it’s setting off Terushima’s instincts like <em>crazy</em>, like he’s never known before, but he forces his knees to lock in place, stopping him from moving any loser.</p><p> </p><p>He watches as Kyoutani’s hand clenches into a fist, once, before relaxing, and then again. “Anything,” he clarifies. “That I might need. During.” Each word sounds like it’s painful to force out, and after Kyoutani has said his piece, it takes Terushima a minute to absorb it.</p><p> </p><p>“What, like a dildo?”</p><p> </p><p>It all happens so fast. Kyoutani <em>launches</em> at him with a snarl, but he’s clearly off his game because his punch only ends up glancing his jaw. The force of it still turns Terushima’s head though, which is distinctly <em>not cool. </em>Before he even realises, he’s growling in response, hands clawing for purchase against the struggling Omega who just tried to fucking knock him out.</p><p> </p><p>It’s difficult to get stable footing on the damp mud of the riverbank, but they both try their best as they devolve into a desperate grapple. Terushima is probably the one in the wrong here, for being a dumbass and embarrassing Kyoutani, but right now his instincts are <em>appalled </em>at the behaviour of the Omega in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>His heart’s pounding. Even with it being Alpha on Omega, Terushima knows if this were a fair fight, if Kyoutani was in full control of his body, Kyoutani could probably take him easily. He might not be as strong as Kyoutani—or most of the guys he’s fought in his life, honestly—but beyond being born an Alpha, he has a scrappiness that’s all his own. He can’t let Kyoutani win.</p><p> </p><p>That thought sends adrenaline blasting through his veins. Somehow he manages to steady himself enough to get a leg around Kyoutani’s, and then he’s sweeping it with as much force as he can muster, shoving Kyoutani’s torso in the opposite direction with his hands to slam him to the floor.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani struggles harder at that but it’s wild, uncontrolled thrashing. Terushima’s on top of him immediately, dropping his weight onto the small of Kyoutani’s back to <em>keep him in place</em>, left hand pressed to his shoulder and the right on his head, holding him down.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Stop,</em>” he hisses, suddenly furious at the events of the last thirty or so seconds.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani doesn’t stop fighting him.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck!” Terushima curses, trying to apply more force to his hands without sacrificing the weight he has on Kyoutani’s back. “Fucking <em>quit it</em>—” but when he lifts his gaze to catch Kyoutani’s face—the half he can see, with the other cheek pressed into the mud—he’s rendered speechless by the furious look in his eyes, the white teeth bared and clenched hard in fury.</p><p> </p><p>He has to swallow down the desire that builds up and pools in his mouth at the sight. It’s more than he knows how to deal with, something bigger than this moment.</p><p> </p><p>Slow, so slow, he slides his hand from where it’s pushing down on the buzzed and bleached hair by Kyoutani’s temple to rest on the back of his neck. The skin there is tanned, and today, flush with burning heat.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani tenses when he realises where this is going, but curiously doesn’t fight him any harder. His eyes refuse to meet Terushima’s gaze and instead glare out at nothing. Terushima can’t look away from him as he squeezes at the heated flesh to scruff him, a little harder than he’s ever done to an Omega before. But then again, he’s never had to fight for submission like this.</p><p> </p><p>The reaction is instantaneous, and a little mind-blowing. All the fight in Kyoutani disappears and he sinks into the ground, hard body gone pliant under him. Terushima watches with wide eyes, and spares a second to wonder if Kyoutani has <em>ever</em> been scruffed before.</p><p> </p><p>But as blindsided as Kyoutani might be right now, he’ll catch up eventually.  He’ll start to thrash and fight all over again, so Terushima gets to it: “look, I’m sorry. That was a shitty thing to say.” It’s not often he’ll admit he’s in the wrong, so privately he hopes Kyoutani is grateful. “Just stop fucking fighting me and let me <em>help</em> for a second. You live round here?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani tries to speak but can’t get his body to cooperate, so he makes a vague, drunk-sounding affirmation. It’s almost too good to be true—they practically live in the same <em>neighbourhood.</em></p><p> </p><p>“And you were going for supplies?” Kyoutani makes another similar sound. So, it got too much and the awkward, proud bastard hotfooted it over to the river instead. Hiding his Omega status from the world only to be fucked over by it in the end. Terushima would laugh, except it’s not funny at all—Kyoutani being the sweetest-smelling Omega in Miyagi is a secret Terushima wants to keep to himself if he can help it.</p><p> </p><p>This time Kyoutani doesn’t answer him, but there’s not really much to say if Terushima’s right.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go with you,” he says, and it’s not a suggestion. This brings Kyoutani back into the real world, and he tries to surge up in protest at the idea of needing a chaperone, but he’s quickly put in his place with another light squeeze.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani might not like it, but he can’t go into a store alone; he smells too good. He can probably barely control his feet enough to walk, judging from his scent and the warmth of his body beneath Terushima.</p><p> </p><p>And truthfully, Terushima’s not sure he can walk away from him right now.</p><p> </p><p>“This’ll help,” he continues, meaning the scruffing. “I should…” he stops to lick his lips, nervous as he tries to figure out how to say it without incensing the Omega even more, “I should scent you a little, too. That’ll clear your head a bit, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani doesn’t reply, his breath still coming out in harsh pants, more animal than man. It’s not consent but it isn’t refusal, either. Terushima shifts a little, growing more uncomfortable the longer he has Kyoutani bodily pinned to the ground. He’s just so hot beneath him. And he smells <em>so</em> good.</p><p> </p><p>“Just a little,” he murmurs, leaning forward to rest his forearms over Kyoutani’s shoulder blades to keep him down, leaving his hands free to slide to either side of Kyoutani’s neck.</p><p> </p><p>The body beneath him erupts into a full-length shudder as the pads of Terushima’s fingers skate up, up, up until they tingle pleasantly against Kyoutani’s buzzed scalp. His broad palms press into, drag across the sides of his neck. His wrists follow, pressing the scent that broadcasts him as Alpha, as <em>Terushima</em>, against Kyoutani’s skin. </p><p> </p><p>He’s a little more thorough than he needs to be, controlled entirely by desire and impulse. His throat’s tight with it, how much he wants the vicious Omega under him. He wants to grind down against him where they’re already pressed together, wants to yank the collar of Kyoutani’s jacket down enough to show off jutting shoulder blades, creating all the space he needs to lower his face and sink his teeth into the back of his neck, the same hot flesh his hand had held so securely in its grip. </p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani would <em>melt</em>, Terushima just knows it. He’d cry out right here in the open, for everyone to see and hear. Would he get so blissed out he’d beg for him? Terushima’s eyelids flutter at the thought.</p><p> </p><p>“There,” he says a few agonising moments later, all false cheer as he forces himself to sit up and pull his hands away. “Are you going to murder me if I get up?”</p><p> </p><p>There’s no sound, no movement, for a charged moment and then Kyoutani lets out a soft breath. “Get off me.” It’s as rough as his few words always are, but slurred around the edges. Terushima did that.</p><p> </p><p>Still, he scrabbles off Kyoutani and up, taking a few steps back just in case. Kyoutani pushes his hands into the dirt and stands too, a lot slower and a lot less steady. Even if he sways a little he stays upright; a good sign.</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Terushima breathes, pleased, and Kyoutani twitches.</p><p> </p><p>Huh. Interesting.</p><p> </p><p>But they’ve got bigger fish to fry, so he gestures to the grassy bank with a nod off his head, and then they set off back up it together. He doesn’t dare offer to help Kyoutani up, but he does take it a little slower than he needs and pointedly doesn’t react whenever Kyoutani struggles.</p><p> </p><p>They make it up without incident, crossing the street to the Family Mart. The electronic jingle as they step through the door means they’re not exactly incognito, but the store looks to be empty save for the cashier. He looks bored to death, forgoing a greeting and keeping his focus on the magazine open in front of him. Terushima grabs a basket and corrals Kyoutani down the first aisle.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you need?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani is clearly unhappy about being here, about needing help, but there’s something else too. Embarrassment, like he’s overwhelmed and maybe… maybe he doesn’t actually <em>know </em>what he needs?</p><p> </p><p>“Have you <em>had</em> a heat since your first?” Terushima asks in a scandalised whisper, pressing close to Kyoutani. The first one comes on suddenly when an Omega matures, Terushima knows. So quick that the people around them scrabble to get all the necessities ready. After that, Heats can be predicted with a fair amount of accuracy, meaning the Omega can make arrangements for themselves.</p><p> </p><p>He’s immediately shrugged off, and Kyoutani literally turns his back on him to dodge answering.  </p><p> </p><p>Terushima feels his eyes go wide as another question hits him: “Are you a—”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not a <em>virgin</em>,” Kyoutani snaps in a whisper, only for his eyes to dart around the general area to make sure no one else has heard.</p><p> </p><p>Well, okay. Terushima doesn’t say another word, letting his raised eyebrows speak for him. It’d be fine either way—honestly, if anything, the fact he potentially hasn’t had a Heat since his first is a little more wild.</p><p> </p><p>Though looking at Kyoutani, from the shaved head, to the mean eyebrows and the brilliant brawling skills, something about it makes sense. There’s definitely a gap between what he presents to the world and what he <em>is.</em> It’s not hard to imagine Kyoutani turning to suppressants, considering the blockers and general embarrassment radiating from him.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima isn’t sure he’s ever known of another Omega running in the circles they do—the rough and tumble life of a <em>delinquent</em> generally attracts Alphas will all the posturing and neat social hierarchy. He’s sure being known as an Omega would make things more difficult, he can imagine the kind of things that would be said to and about him.</p><p> </p><p>Not that it’s any of his damn business. Well, beyond what he’s <em>made</em> his business already, but he can’t be blamed. Kyoutani’s cluelessness means this responsibility falls on him, lest it be someone else. The thought is distinctly unpleasant.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima begins to browse the aisles, picking up things they’ll need. He’s only fucked an Omega through their Heat once, but he thinks he’s got enough of a handle on the situation to get the necessities: some new washcloths, some gentle toiletries, a pack of bottled water (which he holds out for Kyoutani to hold so he doesn’t feel quite so useless), sliced bread, a bag of oranges, a fistful of protein bars and, because he’s an optimist, a box or two of condoms.</p><p> </p><p>He catches Kyoutani watching as he tosses those in, but neither of them says a word.</p><p> </p><p>When they’re done Terushima puts the basket on the counter with a winning smile, which goes ignored by the cashier. Terushima takes the water from Kyoutani and drops that down beside it with a pointed thud. </p><p> </p><p>The cashier finally looks at the items, and then slides his eyes up to Terushima, and then Kyoutani with a not-so-subtle sniff of the air. His eyes widen and he drops his gaze with a blush.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, and number 52, please,” Terushima adds, leaning forward as his grin turns mean, rankled by the employee’s lack of propriety. He nods at the cigarette display behind the cashier’s head as if to say <em>hurry the fuck up</em>. He gets a shaky nod in response, and then the cashier proceeds to try and set a record for ringing up and bagging all the items.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani is trying his best to be invisible somewhere behind him, so when Terushima hands over the cash to cover the items there’s no reaction. Terushima thinks he’s being quite chivalrous; a response would have been nice. He takes the two bulging bags and with that, he and Kyoutani leave the store.</p><p> </p><p>Turns out Kyoutani’s apartment is only a few blocks away, which is just as well because even without the additional burden of their recent purchases, he’s visibly sweating by the time they reach his building.</p><p> </p><p>It’s an old, decrepit-looking thing, surprisingly even worse off than Terushima’s place, which is saying something. It’s only two storeys, but even so Terushima’s relieved when Kyoutani walks past the staircase and instead walks to the last door.</p><p> </p><p>He has to rest his weight against the doorjamb while he finds the right key to unlock the door, but Kyoutani manages in the end, kicking off heavy boots once he’s inside. Even in his state he stoops down to place them neatly in the shoe rack tucked into the side of the genkan, which is so outside of Terushima’s image of him that he can’t help but feel a little charmed by the display of neatness.</p><p> </p><p>It’s then Kyoutani pauses. It lasts long enough that Terushima lifts the bags in his hands, ready to plop them down in the genkan and reluctantly say his goodbyes, but Kyoutani stops him—not with words, but by walking deeper into the apartment, conspicuously leaving the door open behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima swallows any and all feeling down as he steps over the threshold, nudging the door shut behind him. He toes his own boots off and then, with a rustle of plastic bags, steps through the tiny kitchen and into the single room Kyoutani calls home.</p><p> </p><p>There’s not much in there—a bed, a wardrobe, a low table and a cheap black TV pushed against the wall. More interesting is the lack of the typical clutter a person collects, little personal touches that make somewhere home. The whole place is clean and tidy. As shitty as the building looks from the outside, the room is nice, if not a little boring.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani all but collapses onto the bed, so Terushima occupies himself by emptying the bags onto the low table in the middle of the small room. The condoms are the last things to be unpacked and to Terushima, the soft sound of box meeting the tabletop is deafening.</p><p> </p><p>Movement in his peripheral has Terushima turning his head towards the bed, where Kyoutani is stripping off his leather jacket with some effort. It eventually hits the floor with a dull thud, but it goes unacknowledged when their gazes lock, <em>hold</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He’s full into Heat now. Terushima can tell, from the rosy cheeks and the dark, dark eyes and the way Kyoutani sits on the edge of his bed, like his limbs are loose and heavy.</p><p> </p><p>Neither of them says a word. They just watch each other for a long, impossible moment. Then, a shift. Kyoutani turns his head just the slightest fraction; he doesn’t dip his chin or break their connected gaze, but as seemingly innocuous as it is, when Terushima flickers his eyes down to look, the movement has bared his neck that slightest bit more, the tendon standing out before it disappears under the collar of his plain white T-shirt.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima lets his gaze linger there for a second longer than he needs to, before he drags his eyes back up to Kyoutani’s face.</p><p> </p><p><em>An Omega already in Heat cannot give proper consent</em>, echoes Terushima’s high school sex ed teacher somewhere in his brain, but things don’t always work out the way they’re supposed to in the real world. This could be the only invitation he receives tonight. It’s far from explicit, unsatisfactory to most, probably, but it’s enough for Terushima. Kyoutani would likely rather die than admit out loud he wants an Alpha to fuck him through his Heat.</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, as if not to spook a wild animal, Terushima stands up. Sheds his own jacket. Takes a step.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani watches his advance, wary, but full of anticipation too. Terushima can <em>smell</em> it in the air, his want.</p><p> </p><p>He was invited into Kyoutani’s space, first at the door and now too, in this moment, even if Kyoutani holds himself very still when Terushima comes to stand in front of him. He’s just… <em>watching</em>, chest moving with quick, heavy breaths.</p><p> </p><p>“Look at you,” Terushima breathes. It’s meant mostly as a compliment but Kyoutani takes it as a taunt anyway, baring his teeth and snapping a little when Terushima brings a hand up to touch his tense jaw.</p><p> </p><p>The sight makes him huff out a laugh. Hardly intimidated, he keeps his hand in place. “Yeah, look at you.” He stretches out his thumb to hook over Kyoutani’s bottom lip, pulling the flesh down to show off more of those gritted white teeth.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani goes very still, watching him wordlessly as his chest heaves.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to bite me?” Even to his own ears he sounds thrilled at the prospect.</p><p> </p><p>When he’s fantasised about Omegas he’s only ever imagined someone pliant, submitting easily under his hand. This is entirely more thrilling. Kyoutani won’t give it up easy—that’s what he’s telling him, has <em>been </em>telling him, even without words.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a thrill. Terushima has never understood himself as an Alpha as much as he does right now.</p><p> </p><p>The tip of his thumb is soaked through with saliva by now; Terushima pulls it away from Kyoutani’s lip and readjusts his grip. He covers Kyoutani’s mouth with his hand, much like he had just a few nights previous. His thumb and middle finger press into his cheeks, applying enough pressure to the hinges of his jaw through the heated flesh to encourage Kyoutani to open his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>He does so, reluctantly at first, but eventually wide enough that Terushima can see his slick pink tongue resting inside. “Don’t bite,” he warns, firm in a way he’d never thought himself capable of until this moment. Shifting his hand again, he reaches inside with two fingers to press at the damp muscle. It tenses and spasms under his touch but the rest of Kyoutani stays stock still, lets Terushima slide the pads of his fingers back just a little more. He feels fascinated by it all, even if he can’t figure out <em>why.</em></p><p> </p><p>And then Kyoutani bites down.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima curses, yanking his fingers away from the clamp of Kyoutani’s incisors.</p><p> </p><p>“That wasn’t very nice,” he tells him, distinctly unimpressed with the sting in his fingers as he shakes them out, his other hand grasping Kyoutani’s chin.</p><p> </p><p>Still, that had been part of the thrill, hadn’t it? Somewhere deep down he’d known Kyoutani would get him eventually. Terushima huffs, mostly at himself and how ridiculous this whole <em>interest</em> is becoming.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani’s smirking, the little shit, and Terushima cocks his head as he looks down at him. “Proud of yourself, Mad Dog?” he asks with a shit-eating grin of his own, tilting Kyoutani’s face up. “Wonder if that’ll last.”</p><p> </p><p>He moves his hand to shove at Kyoutani’s shoulder, and then the fight begins. They wrestle against the mattress, fucking up Kyoutani’s pristine sheets as they roll around, fighting for control. Kyoutani grips at Terushima’s T-shirt tight enough that when he yanks it rips a little; Terushima fights Kyoutani off just long enough that he can pull it over his head to get it out of the way once and for all, though he gets fingernails raking savage red lines down his side for the trouble.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani is just as vicious as he was by the river, if not more so. By the time Terushima has them both shirtless he’s been bitten on the bicep hard enough to draw blood, and he’s completely winded, gasping for breath. He sits on Kyoutani’s hips and looks down at him, hands pinning at his bony shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>He’s a lot skinnier than he’d looked the night of the fight, scrawny frame hidden beneath his leather jacket. Terushima strokes the thin skin stretched over his clavicles, drawing invisible lines with his fingertips. Kyoutani lifts his arms to grab or claw or scratch—something not very nice, undoubtedly—and that won’t do.  Terushima needs him a little more pliant.</p><p> </p><p>He can’t get at his scruff but he can subdue him with a hand on his throat, holding him down. Kyoutani hisses through his teeth and strains against the hold, but conspicuously doesn’t try to fight it.</p><p> </p><p>Shit, he <em>likes </em>it.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so pretty, Kyoutani,” he coos down at the feral being under him, rocking his hips down. “Wanted you when I thought you were an Alpha, but now you’re in Heat for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani <em>shudders beneath him</em> and that’s nice, that’s incredible, Terushima wants more. He presses down harder, the heat of his groin grinding against Kyoutani’s as his knees dig into the mattress either side of him.</p><p> </p><p>“So tough as well, aren’t you?” Terushima pants, lowering his chest to press against Kyoutani’s so it’s all contact, all heat down the entire length of their torsos.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani bucks underneath him, but Terushima knows he’s already won; Kyoutani’s not even really trying anymore. Even so he plays his final card, putting his teeth to Kyoutani’s jaw. He waits for a moment, just letting him <em>feel</em> him there. Predictably, Kyoutani freezes.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima swears he can hear the overeager drumming of his heartbeat. Oh, he wants it.</p><p> </p><p>And Terushima gives it, biting down firmly.</p><p> </p><p>It’s for Kyoutani, mostly, but Terushima finds himself a little blindsided by just how satisfying it is for him to a piece of Kyoutani between his teeth. He bites hard enough to send a message, turning it to a smacking kiss before he pulls away. When he looks down, there’s a red, wet smear where his mouth had been. Looks good.</p><p> </p><p>He needs a moment to regain control of himself enough to speak, but when he does it’s a thoroughly satisfied purr. “But so soft when you’re shown a bit of discipline. Does it feel good?”</p><p> </p><p>He knows it does. Kyoutani’s a furnace beneath him, and he smells so sweet, the smell almost cloying in the air, excessive. Terushima feels drunk from it. Kyoutani’s sweating, damp at his temples and in the dip at the base of his neck. He’s panting, hands fisted in the sheets.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yeah,” Terushima continues, mostly to himself. “Feels good, huh.” He gives Kyoutani a few moments, contenting himself with tasting the damp salt behind his ear, down his neck. If he laves his tongue across the skin to make sure his scent imprints there, that's his business.</p><p> </p><p>Hands at his hips bring him back, and Terushima reluctantly withdraws his tongue from Kyoutani’s collarbone to lift up and look at him. Kyoutani’s gaze is dark and heavy, fingers curling around the belt loops of Terushima’s jeans and tugging.</p><p> </p><p>“You want it?” he asks, just to be a dick, sticking out his tongue as he presses his groin into Terushima’s stomach.</p><p> </p><p>The only response he gets is the hard press of thumbs into his hipbones. Terushima laughs. “Alright, alright. I won’t make you beg.” Just yet. Instead he lifts himself to his knees and unfastens his jeans, eyelashes fluttering as the pressure against his erection lessens.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani presses two fingers to the soft cotton revealed in the split of Terushima’s open fly, feeling the heat of him through the thin fabric of his boxers. Even that feels amazing, but then Terushima remembers he doesn’t actually trust Kyoutani’s hands or mouth (especially his mouth) being anywhere near his dick just yet. He slaps the hand away and then clambers off the bed so he can shed the remainder of his clothing at long last. Kyoutani does the same—uncoordinated twisting getting his clothes as far as his ankles before Terushima takes pity on him and takes over.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as he’s naked too, Kyoutani grabs Terushima by the waist and throws him back onto the bed. It catches him entirely by surprise, lulled into a false sense of security by the Omega's earlier submission. He should have known better but it's not so bad when he ends up on his back under him, looking up at the mean creature above him in wonder.</p><p> </p><p>Nails rake down his chest, merciless even over the sensitive skin of his nipples and Terushima is hissing in pain at the same time as he rolls his hips up against Kyoutani. It feels good. Every single part of it.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re an idiot,” Kyoutani growls, hands against Terushima’s flat stomach, “and an asshole. I hate you.”</p><p> </p><p>His flush spreads from the tips of his ears all the way down to his slender chest and Terushima is <em>so</em> taken with him even as those insults slip from pink lips in an attempt to—what? Hurt his pride?  </p><p> </p><p>“And yet you still want me to fuck you, yeah?” Terushima can’t help but grin, Kyoutani snarling at him even as he presses back against Terushima’s hard cock. “Fuck you all through your Heat, scent you, scruff you, fill you up---”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut <em>up</em>,” is Kyoutani’s immediate interruption, even as he raises up to fist Terushima’s erection, hold it steady under him. “Just keep your fucking mouth shut—”</p><p> </p><p>Terushima can’t though: “oh sweetheart, don’t you want to take it a bit slower? I can—” but he’s suddenly awfully distracted by the glistening slick on the insides of Kyoutani’s thighs, the way he <em>drips</em> from his pussy onto the head of Terushima’s dick, rolling down to hit the fingers Kyoutani has wrapped around him. Already so wet and ready for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh <em>wow.</em>” That’s amazing. Incredible. Terushima might be babbling, raising his hand in the hopes he can reach out to touch, slide his fingers through his folds to feel just how wet he is before he finally breaches Kyoutani with his cock. The Omega clearly doesn’t want to wait though, grabbing Terushima’s wrist and holding it away as he slides his grip further down Terushima’s cock, holding it steady at the base as he begins to lower himself down onto it.</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani curving forward, dropping his chin to try to <em>watch</em> Terushima’s slide into him is probably the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. He throws his head back against the mattress with a groan because it’s almost too much to bear. “Wait, holy shit, the <em>condoms—” </em></p><p> </p><p>“I’m on birth control, you moron,” Kyoutani says, managing to be bitchy even through the groan he lets out as he takes Terushima into him.</p><p> </p><p>Hot, wet, tight—it’s too much, it’s amazing, and even if Kyoutani’s in charge right now Terushima’s at least allowed to grasp at Kyoutani’s thighs and squeeze. He's entirely grateful.</p><p> </p><p>Only when he’s fully seated does Kyoutani stop, letting out a satisfied-sounding breath, hands planted over Terushima’s ribs as he wiggles his hips to adjust his perch. “Oh shit,” Terushima whines, “how the Hell do <em>you</em> have the best p—”</p><p> </p><p>“—fucking shut <em>up</em>,” Kyoutani hisses, lifting himself up only to shove right back down, both of them devolving into moans.</p><p> </p><p>Terushima <em>has</em> to tell him; “It’s true though, I swear.” Kyoutani feels like nothing else, the way he’s clenched around his dick, the way that even through the pleasure Terushima’s body smarts and stings with scratch and bite marks, the way Kyoutani’s mean and hard to handle and—</p><p> </p><p>Wait, he’s not <em>that</em> hard to handle though, is he? Terushima managed quite easily before. Struck with inspiration, he waits until the next time Kyoutani bears down, taking advantage of the pause he takes to savour the feeling of Terushima’s dick inside of him to take a hold of Kyoutani’s neck and squeeze. True to form, Kyoutani immediately goes limp with a mewl, and if it’s even <em>possible</em>, somehow manages to take Terushima even <em>deeper</em> inside.</p><p> </p><p>Hell <em>yes.</em> Terushima’s given an inch but takes a mile, holding Kyoutani close so that when he rolls them over he somehow manages to stay <em>inside</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t believe someone else has had you,” Terushima pants, because of course he remembers the conversation (or as close as they can get to one) at the convenience store. He hikes up Kyoutani’s thighs higher around his hips as he slams back into him. It sounds <em>filthy</em>, and Terushima is utterly taken with the way Kyoutani looks when he’s fucked into. “Did you lie on your back for them, too?” He doubts it. “Bet they couldn’t handle you—they just let you take whatever you wanted, didn’t they? Didn’t know how much you want to be taken over, how much you like to be scruffed like a naughty little pup.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyoutani’s blunt nails are gouging into his shoulders but Terushima loves it, loves the way Kyoutani clings to him and rolls down onto him, the way he takes his dick so well. The way he clearly doesn’t give a fuck about anything else in this moment.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t want me to shut up, do you? You want me to tell you how sweet you are, how good you’re being.” Kyoutani keens, eyes scrunched shut as he pulls Terushima’s thigh, urging him to go faster, harder.</p><p> </p><p>“You are. And you smell so good, Kyoutani. So ripe, so ready for me. Bet you taste just as good too.” He licks over Kyoutani’s bottom lip just after he says it, only fully realising the desire to have a taste as he says it.</p><p> </p><p>Shockingly Kyoutani gasps at the contact, obediently opening his mouth without any further prompting. Terushima can’t resist, forgoing any real kissing in favour of dipping his tongue directly into that wet heat, brushing against Kyoutani’s and pressing at those impressive teeth he likes to show off so much. It’s messy, saliva dripping from where their mouths don’t quite meet, but it’s the best Terushima can manage while he’s still driving in and out of Kyoutani’s pussy.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll fuck the Heat right out of you,” he tells Kyoutani, who clings and claws at him, hands everywhere, clutching at his bicep, his shoulder, his hair. “Won’t stop until I do, promise.” He <em>never</em> wants to stop fucking him. “Might even put a baby in you,” he breathes into Kyoutani’s ear, biting down on his neck and hearing him howl, feeling him convulse around his dick. He can’t stop. “Would you be satisfied then? Yeah, you want it—birth control my ass.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s just a fantasy, just his mouth running away with him, but he plants a firm hand low on Kyoutani’s stomach anyway, feeling himself move inside, imagining it growing and firming up to hold a little one—theirs. What a fucking scandal. Kyoutani would be insufferable, but Terushima would take responsibility for it and—</p><p> </p><p>His vision goes white and Terushima comes the hardest he ever has in his entire fucking <em>life.</em></p><p> </p><p>It’s also then he realises he might have… also accidentally knotted Kyoutani. So now they’re literally stuck together for the next little while. Kyoutani might maul him to death for everything that’s transpired in the last few minutes, and he'll be unable to get away. Is he about to fucking die?</p><p> </p><p>When his wits return to him, Terushima pushes his weight up onto a shaking arm and risks looking Kyoutani in the face.</p><p> </p><p>He looks… wow. He’s all red and sweaty and it should be ugly but it’s kind of the exact opposite. Which is probably a lot to do with the fact Kyoutani looks <em>fucked out</em>, eyes dark but sated, hazy. Kyoutani’s eyes meet his for a moment but then they dip lower to look down his body, to where Terushima’s other hand is <em>still</em> resting on his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere below his palm, his dick is still inside of Kyoutani. So is his come. Does it feel good? Does Kyoutani feel full? Satisfied?</p><p> </p><p>“As if someone like <em>you</em> could get me pregnant,” Kyoutani says with a sneer, even as he places a hand on top of Terushima’s and presses <em>down.</em></p><p> </p><p>Holy <em>shit</em>, he’s into it too. Terushima’s dick twitches where its buried inside of Kyoutani and he <em>feels </em>it. So does Kyoutani apparently, because he jolts, hand slipping from Terushima’s as he slumps back into the mattress.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not a very nice thing to say to your Alpha,” is Terushima’s imperious response, right before he lowers his head, determined to pay Kyoutani back for his earlier aggression, bite for bite, until they can go again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*backs slowly a w a y*</p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/verbrennunq">my twitter</a> in case you want to send hate mail more directly or somethin :')</p></blockquote></div></div>
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